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Chapter Nine
Jackson
Doc and I walked to the bar, and Doc wiped his brow, frowning at me. “She said she’d been driving for about six hours, Jack, which would indicate that her injuries aren’t as bad as they look. Sometimes adrenalin kicks in and takes over, and you don’t realize how much pain you’re actually in. I’ve seen it before. She ought to be careful and take it easy for a while. That bump on the back of her head is nasty—so for the next twenty-four hours, no sleeping longer than a couple of hours at a time. You know the drill.”
“Yeah, I do.” I nodded, remembering the time Brodie and I went snowboarding last winter. Brodie tried to be a little too macho and went way too fast on a jump. He landed on his head, and for several seconds he couldn’t even feel his legs. The ski patrol had to come and tow him down the mountain. It had to have been the scariest moment in my life.
Doc placed his hand on my shoulder. “Jackson, what the fuck are you getting yourself into? You know she’s lying. You know someone beat the crap out of her. And you know that most likely a boyfriend or a husband is going to come looking for her.
She should be in a shelter for battered women, where she can get the proper care and attention she needs, but shit, considering you called me, I guess that would be out of the question. Did you know she doesn’t even have any clothes on under that coat?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I noticed that, and yes, a shelter would be a great place for her, but I know there has to be a good reason she didn’t go to one. A reason she hasn’t divulged yet. She’s scared. I know I’m a sucker for the wounded, but I want to help.”
“Look, Jack, I know you only have the best intentions, but I have a weird feeling about this. It could have been a rape. A lot of women lie about that and won’t go to the police, but if it wasn’t, then some mean son-of-a-bitch husband did this to her, and getting mixed up in domestic affairs with strangers is bad news. You don’t know what kind of maniac did this.”
“She’s not wearing a wedding ring. But I’ll find out.” I knew I could. I needed some time—or rather, she needed time to trust me. I wanted to make sure she felt safe and didn’t want her to think I’d betray her trust. I wanted her to know that I’d keep my word and wouldn’t call the authorities. I also knew that in rape cases, if this was a rape case, Doc was right. Some women would go to the police after a rape, but there were many who wouldn’t. But something told me this wasn’t some random attack. She was more frightened than distressed. I felt sure she was running from someone. “It would be best if you kept this to yourself, okay?”
Doc nodded and slid his palm through his hair. “Yeah, sure.”
As he turned to leave, I placed my hand on his back. “Doc, thanks. I’ll see you later. Come in early. I’ll buy you a beer before you go on tonight.” I patted Doc on the shoulder as we walked toward the door. I wanted to make sure to lock it after he left.
“Yeah? Fucking A, you can buy me a few. How’s that?”
“Deal.”
After shutting the door and locking it, I turned to see Brodie standing on the other side of the bar, drying a beer glass with a smirk on his face, shaking his head. I pointed a finger at him, about to tell him to wipe the smirk off his face and mind his own business, when Lana walked out of the office, tugging her coat tightly together.
She didn’t make an excuse to bolt as I thought she might. Instead, she smiled with chagrin and went to sit back at the bar.
“Oh, Lana, this is my brother, Brodie.”
“Hello,” Brodie said, still wiping the same glass he’d been drying for the past couple of minutes.
“Hello.”
I wanted Brodie to leave, so I gestured my head toward the back, but he ignored me. “Don’t you have some beer to put away back there?”
“Oh,” he said, feigning stupidity, or maybe it was real. “Yeah. Ah ... nice to meet you, Lana.”
I poured her more coffee after dumping the cold one out again.
“Um ... Jackson.”
“Yeah?”
Her eyes connected with mine. “Actually, it’s Lena,” she said, finally admitting to lying about her name. “And thanks. Sorry, I lied about my name.” Progress, I thought and smiled, keeping my eyes on hers. God, beneath the black and blue and the swelling, she had gorgeous eyes.
“You’re welcome, Lena. But, according to Doc, you need rest and time to recuperate.” I was glad she had decided to trust me enough to tell me her real name—at least her first name.
“I got that. The only problem is I don’t know where that should be. Are there any inexpensive hotels around here?”
“No. No inexpensive ones, but today’s your lucky day. Well, lucky from here on out.”
“How’s that?” she asked, sipping the hot coffee.
“Well, lucky you walked into my bar, and lucky that last week, the tenant who rented the cottage above my garage moved out, and I haven’t re-rented it yet. You can stay there while you heal if you’d like. It’s furnished.”
She fell silent for a moment then asked, “How much?”
